


if i break

by PidgeScarlet



Series: SBI Oneshots [8]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brothers, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Fiction, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Injuries, Music, Non-Graphic Violence, OOC, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Platonic Relationships, Prompt Fic, Recovery, SHIPPERS DNI, Swearing, Tears, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, guys it’s a fic do not take this seriously, i can not stress this enough that this is about their personas, i’m sure mother and father innit are amazing people, not their personal lives, they are bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28755789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PidgeScarlet/pseuds/PidgeScarlet
Summary: The ukulele played a sad tune and Tommy smiled sadly to himself. Wilbur watched silently as the boy seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. It made Wilbur’s chest ache to see the kid like this in front of him, fractured but not quite broken. Wilbur feared the day in which Tommy would finally break.-----Tommy's been keeping secrets from his friends and when Wilbur realizes the extent to how dangerous these secrets are he decides to help Tommy recover from the abuse he's been hiding from everyone. Sometimes you just got to step up to the plate of big brother and help out those you care for.----Rated Teen for Swearing, talk about abuse, talk about manipulation, description of minor injuries, mentions of self harm and drug use (VERY BRIEF).THIS IS ABOUT THEIR PERSONAS NOT THE PEOPLE THEMSELVES PLEASE UNDERSTAND THATPrompt by @idontwannaputmywattpadusername so uh, you're welcome...
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), None, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: SBI Oneshots [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079132
Comments: 29
Kudos: 736





	1. Fracturing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idontwannaputmywattpadusername](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontwannaputmywattpadusername/gifts).
  * Inspired by [mcyt prompts (mostly tommy)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681869) by [idontwannaputmywattpadusername](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontwannaputmywattpadusername/pseuds/idontwannaputmywattpadusername). 



> 1\. This is a fic about their personas!!! I cannot stress this enough! I know it takes place IRL but I am not trying to assume anything about Tommy's home life. I'm sure Mother and Father Innit are lovely people and I don't mean them any harm. These parents are purely fictional and not based off of Tommy's parents at all. Not at all.  
> 2\. I don't know much about abuse. I'm not trying to paint it in a bad way, sugarcoat it, offend anyone who's gone through some stuff, or anything else. I wrote this for fun based off of a prompt I found and don't mean any harm to anyone reading. Same goes with stuff about the foster care system and adoption process, idk how that works, but I tried to write it as realistically as I could. One of these days I'll put research into my writing, promise.  
> 3\. They are brothers, wtf shippers dni.  
> 4\. I'm American (sad, I know, lol) so I don't know how the UK works. Laugh at me all you want, it's fictional anyway.  
> 5\. Yeah I'm aware it's out of character a bit but idc cause it's about their personas anyway and a work of fiction.
> 
> ALSO PLEASE DON'T SHARE THIS WITH ANY CCS I DON'T WANT TO MAKE THEM UNCOMFORTABLE AND SO JUST PLEASE RESPECT ME AS THE AUTHOR AND DO NOT SHARE IT PLEASE
> 
> The prompt is by @idontwannaputmywattpadusername. They wanted some to write this really badly and I thought, yeah oh, I can do that. Somehow, with all my other wips, I managed to finish this in like, two days? Idk. You're welcome, enjoy reading if you find this. Idk how Ao3 works I haven't been on this website for very long...
> 
> TW: Swearing, talk about abuse, talk about manipulation, description of minor injuries, mentions of self harm and drug use (VERY BRIEF)

“Well chat!” Wilbur said with a clap of his hands, careful to not get them too close to his mic. He didn’t fancy blowing out the ears of his fans. “I think I’m going to end stream in a minute here.”

He clicked through his open applications on his monitor, clicking onto Discord, curious to see if anyone was in a VC or streaming. He was surprised to see that Tommy still sat in a VC after saying hours ago that he was going to hang out there for a bit while he did homework and some editing. It was rather late in the night, and Tommy surprisingly had the best sleep schedule out of all of them it seemed. Wilbur prays for Tubbo’s poor soul when he sees how late that boy streams. But with Tommy up this late Wilbur wondered if he’d fancied a surprise from him and stream, and maybe they could chat after the cameras were turned off.

“Ooo, chat,” Wilbur said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Tommy’s in a VC. Want me to get him to say hello?”

Chat flew bye, pleading for him to say hi to Tommy mixed in with the usual spam. Wilbur chuckled to himself as he made sure his Discord settings were still stream compliant. He was happy chat agreed, they loved the child after all.

“Alright chat, let’s say hello to the child before I end the stream,” Wilbur said. He clicked on Tommy’s VC, the usual Discord ringing sound filling his ears. “Hello gremlin child,” he greeted, surprised when Tommy didn’t quickly respond. Did he have himself muted? That wouldn’t be the first time it happened, as much as it hurt his ego to admit.

To his surprise Wilbur heard the strumming of a familiar song fill his ears instead of Tommy’s usual joyful and annoying greeting. Chat flew by, just as confused and curious as him. Tommy wasn’t sharing his camera and he wasn’t deafened or muted. Maybe he pulled out his headphones, or left music playing while he got up to grab something? That would make sense, because Wilbur didn’t have any idea of what Tommy could be doing.

Then he heard singing. The familiar sad lyrics of Jubilee Line fell from Tommy’s lips, so quiet that the microphone could barely pick them up. But it was enough, and Wilbur knew chat could just make it out like he could. Wilbur quickly exited the VC, feeling like an intruder rather than a guest. He felt like he broke a taboo, stepping into boundaries that he wasn’t allowed in.

Looking back to peer at chat he grimaced internally. Everyone was either shouting about how Tommy was playing Wilbur’s song, asking if Tommy was there, spamming ‘ _SingingInnit’_ , or ‘ _CLIP IT’_. Wilbur clapped to get chat’s attention, he hoped, and began his usual outro.

“Looks like the gremlin is busy,” he said, trying to play off the nerves he felt in his gut as he thought about Tommy. “Listening to my songs like the rascal of a little brother he likes to be. But I’m calling it a night chat, it’s close to midnight now anyway. Bye chat!”

Shutting his streaming equipment down and his usual Twitch setup Wilbur lets out a sigh as he leans back in his seat.

What the hell was Tommy doing alone in that VC?

His curiosity got the best of him, along with the undeniable urge to apologize for stepping into something he felt like wasn’t meant for his ears, along with the ears of thousands of others.

He clicked back onto Discord and searched for Tommy’s username in his DMs, not surprised to see it near the top. He quickly types a message asking for Tommy to call him. When he didn’t get an answer right away he didn’t stop himself from spamming until he saw the little ‘ _TommyInnit is typing’_ message hovering over the Discord chat box. All Tommy sent was _‘ok?’_ before the usual Discord call message popped up. Wilbur was very quick to answer.

“Hey big man, what’s up?” Tommy’s snarky, yet unusually tired, voice asked.

“Tommy I am so sorry,” Wilbur said, resting his head in his hands. “I saw you in a VC while I was streaming and I think you were either listening to one of my songs or singing along and I left immediately after that but I think at least half of my chat clipped the moment and it’s probably all over the internet. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause for a moment, before Tommy’s voice filled his ears.

“Oh.”

Wilbur thought he might have died when he heard the sad and confused response from Tommy. Nothing else. No shouting, no raging, no quirky jokes or cheap responses. Nothing. Just an acknowledgement that he heard what Wilbur said.

“Fuck, damage control is gonna be a pain tomorrow,” Wilbur said, banging his head on his desk. There was silence on the other end before he heard chuckling coming through his earbuds.

“Did you just bang your head on your desk?” Tommy asked, sounding slightly more upbeat than he had been moments ago.

“Yes and now my forehead hurts,” Wilbur complained. It was only partially true, but he didn’t mind lying if it meant he could hear Tommy’s laugh again.

“Can’t say I’m sorry for you Big Dubs,” Tommy said. “Don’t bang your head on your desk next time.”

“I won’t you gremlin,” Wilbur said with a snort. “Now do you mind telling me why you’re listening to Jubilee Line at midnight?”

If Tommy’s camera had been on Wilbur would have seen him shrug and turn away from his computer screen as he pulled the strings of his hoodie’s hood tighter. Wilbur, of course, didn’t see this. Instead all he got was silence and this made him more concerned.

“Tommy?” he asked. “Is everything alright? Was this just a ‘let’s binge listen to Wilbur’s music’ or- or something else?”

It took a moment but Tommy’s response reached his ears soon enough.

“Something else,” he mumbled, sounding farther away from his mic. Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he sighed as he rested his head in his hands.

“Those are some pretty heavy lyrics Tommy, from a dark time in my life.”

“I know.”

Wilbur wished that he could read the sadness and other deep emotions hiding in the tone of Tommy's words better than he already could. He felt his face fall and he turned on his camera. Something was wrong, and Wilbur would feel like shit all night if he didn’t ask Tommy what was upsetting him, putting him in this somber mood of his.

“Tommy, do you mind turning on your camera for me?” Wilbur asked, cautious. To his surprise Tommy’s camera turned on a moment later. He was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, his chair a decent distance from his desk, like he pushed away from it. He had his hood up over his hair and his head was buried in his knees, hiding his face. There were no lights on in his room, but with the light coming from his computer Wilbur could make out the mess of his room, surprised to see a guitar leaning on Tommy’s bed. That was new, different at the least.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asked, his voice quiet. Tommy mumbled into his knees and Wilbur wished more than anything that he could be next to the boy and give him a hug. His heart broke even more when Tommy looked up.

Tommy’s left eye was black, a nasty bruise making it swell slightly. He also bore a large red mark that looked suspiciously like a handprint across his other cheek. His lips were swollen, and there was dried blood on his face under his nose and on his chin.

“What- what happened?” Wilbur asked, concern lacking through his voice. Tommy pulled himself closer to his desk and his camera, no longer needing to hide his injuries now that Wilbur had seen them all. He looked sad and wasn’t looking at the camera.

“Well the bruise around me eye is from some kids from my old school,” Tommy said. “The bullies, y’know?”

Wilbur stared at Tommy’s bruised face and bit back the urge to cry and shout and pester to boy for more answers. Tommy needed time to let these answers out without feeling pressured. Wilbur knew a thing or two about pressure himself and didn’t want to force the words out of the boy. Wilbur would rather have Tommy feel safe enough to admit what was up without Wilbur hovering over him.

Tommy continued, making Wilbur pay attention once again. “So yeah, ran into them while I was running some errands for me mum. They asked how YouTube was working out. Then they proceeded to beat the shit outta me,” Tommy explained, twisting his hoodie’s string in his fingers. “What made it worse was the disappointed look on my drunk parents faces when I got home. My mum slapped me.”

A hand raised up as Tommy caressed his own cheek, wincing slightly. “My parents usually don’t hit me, just some shouting, cause they’d know what the internet’d say if they saw me bloodied n‘ bruised.”

“Tommy, that- that’s not okay,” Wilbur said, trying to figure out the best way to console the boy and offer some comfort when he was talking through a screen and not there with him. Tommy hiccupped and rubbed at his eyes as tears began to fall.

“I-I know it’s not,” he whimpered. “But I can’t do nothing, and I can deal with the shoutin’. I just wasn’t having a good day and shouted back when I shouldn’t have.”

Tears fell from Tommy’s eyes as he wept, ugly sobs shaking his body as he hiccupped and winced at the pain of his injuries.

“Mu-music,” Tommy began, taking a shuddering breath between hiccups. “Music’s my only safe outlet. I tried other things, but I get sick at the sight of blood and I know-I know I joke about drugs but I don’t wanna be a teen addict.”

Wilbur’s heart clenched when Tommy mentioned ‘other things’ and brought up blood. The thought of Tommy even putting a blade or something else to his skin made him feel sick. His little brother was suffering and here he was, sitting alone in Brighton at midnight talking to a teenager that lived hours away.

“-I don’t even mind the pain,” Tommy was saying. “It’s a nice distraction but it never lasts and that feeling that I deserve it, it scares me. It scares me Wilby.”

He was crying again, his words incoherent. Wilbur looked at the time and back to his screen. There were still trains that went to Tommy’s city at this time; if he hurried he could catch the next one.

“Tommy,” Wilbur asked. “Are you safe right now?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy said, and the truth behind his words made Wilbur’s gut twist. “But my parents should be asleep. They didn’t come to yell at me ‘cause of the guitar playing after all.”

“I’m coming over then,” Wilbur said, already closing all of his other applications on his monitor. Tommy’s eyes widened and he rushed to tell Wilbur no but Wilbur wasn’t having any on it.

“You’re my brother and you’re hurting,” Wilbur said, unplugging his headphones so he could hear Tommy across the room as he rushed around the space to grab a jacket. “So I’m coming to comfort you. I’ll be there in a couple hours, the tube shouldn’t be too much trouble this late at night.”

“You don’t have to do this Wilbs,” Tommy rushed to say. But Wilbur shook his head and offered Tommy a sad smile as he leaned in front of the camera to exit Discord.

“But I want too,” he said, smiling at the boy. “See you soon Tommy, hang tight and stay safe.”

* * *

Hours later Wilbur and Tommy sat in the park at almost three in the morning. Tommy had a small ukulele with him and Wilbur was surprised to see yet another instrument he didn’t know Tommy could play. It was dark and there was fog resting low on the lawns of the park fields. There was dew on the grass and the trees shook gently in the early morning breeze. It was quiet, most of the city was asleep at this time of night.

The two were seated on a park bench. Tommy was bundled up in multiple coats as he strummed idly on his ukulele, Jubilee Line again. Wilbur’s hands rested in his lap as he watched the boy next to him. He seemed smaller and quieter than ever before and the bruises looked even worse up close. He briefly saw how bruised his wrists looked when they first arrived at the park and Tommy’s sleeve slid down as he waved at his older-brother figure. Wilbur didn’t mention any of the bruises and he suspected that Tommy was secretly grateful for that.

“I didn’t know you could play,” Wilbur said, watching Tommy’s fingers as they strummed the chords to Jubilee Line. Tommy nodded, the chords switching to a song he didn’t recognize but that seemed to suit the ukulele more.

“I can play a few instruments,” Tommy said. “I’ve been learning ukulele but guitar and piano have always been my favorite.”

The ukulele played a sad tune and Tommy smiled sadly to himself. Wilbur watched silently as the boy seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. It made Wilbur’s chest ache to see the kid like this in front of him, fractured but not quite broken. Wilbur feared the day in which Tommy would finally break.

“Tommy,” Wilbur said, choosing his words wisely as he spoke slowly. “If you’re comfortable, can you tell me more about this, this ‘shouting’ your parents do?”

Tommy bristled and sat up straighter, the chords he was playing on his ukulele coming to a halt.

“I- I uh-” Tommy stuttered, his breaths coming in faster.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Wilbur said in a rush, not wanting to push the kid to the point of hyperventilation. “I think that- we need to- ah fuck- um- for us to decide what’s best for you I have to understand what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true, innit?” Tommy said quietly. He sniffled and Wilbur couldn’t tell if it was from the early morning chill nipping at his nose or that Tommy was close to tears.

“Do you, do you want to talk about it?” Wilbur asked cautiously. He watched Tommy drum his fingers on the body of his ukulele. Tommy wasn’t looking at him, instead at the little instrument that sat in the lap of his crossed legs.

“I think it started around a year or two ago,” Tommy began, and Wilbur sat up straighter as he gave the boy his full attention. “It wasn’t long after, or was right before, I started getting into YouTube and streaming.” The drumming stopped and Tommy looked up, staring blankly out over the foggy fields in the park. “My parents have always been busy, and they always enjoyed drinking whenever they had the time,” Tommy said. “When they began to realize I could take more care of myself they started staying out later. Going to pubs or, like they have more recently, nursing a bottle of wine or whiskey at home.”

“Are your parents alcoholics?” Wilbur asked. Tommy just shrugged and his gaze returned to stare at the ground.

“Dunno, but probably,” he said. “Whenever I see my father he’s drunk. Mum’s a bit better, but she’s rarely sober it seems.”

“Sounds like alcoholics,” Wilbur admitted, more to himself than Tommy. Tommy chuckled sadly.

“Yeah, that’s the sad truth, innit?” he said. “The sadder thing is- is that they still care. Even with all the shit they say to me, they still love me, I think so at least.”

“What do you mean?” Wilbur asked, worried about what was really going on in Tommy’s life. It sounded like his parents were total alcoholics that would scream at and neglect their child; that didn’t sound like love.

Tommy sighed and he plucked one of the strings on his ukulele, the sound echoing slightly.

“My dad’s always been supportive of the YouTube and Twitch stuff,” Tommy explained. “My mum too. They tell me how proud they are, how nice it must be to have a fun job at my age, how it must be cool to be famous when I’m only sixteen. They always encourage me to do more and shout at me when I’m not doing enough. They get pissed about the stupid family headcanons, asking why I’m talking to strangers as if they're family when I’ve got a mum and dad already. Call me worthless and then switch saying they love me but expect more from me. Say they're proud but then say I should be grateful they even allow me to be a YouTuber and stuff.”

Tommy sniffled and rubbed at his eyes. “I just- I just don’t know what to think,” he said as he began to cry. “Cause they say so much shit but they still love me, right?”

Wilbur’s gut twisted and his heart ached. He wrapped an arm around Tommy, carefully pulling him into a hug. Tommy leaned his head into Wilbur’s chest and gripped onto his jacket tightly. Wilbur ran a hand up and down Tommy’s back in a soothing pattern, letting the boy cry.

“I just- I just want them to- to be proud,” Tommy cried, hiccupping every now and then. “I want them to say- to say they love me with- without there being another underlying factor. For them to- to stop shouting at me and- and see me as something other than a- than a disappointment.”

“Toms,” Wilbur said, his words soft and comforting. “You’re not a disappointment. You’re amazing. You’re a strong kid and I’m proud of you. You’ve come so far and dealt with so much shit and still manage to be such a kind and sweet kid. I’m so so proud of you.”

“You-you really mean it?” Tommy asked, pulling back as he wiped his tears away to look Wilbur in the eyes.

“I mean it Toms,” Wilbur said, smiling softly at the boy that sat beside him. “And I love you. I love you so much. You’re the best little brother I could ask for.”

Tommy sobbed again and tried wiping his tears away. “I- I love you to Wilby,” he said through tears and hiccups.

“Don’t listen to your parents Tommy,” Wilbur said. “They’re abusing you, emotionally if not physically. You shouldn’t have to deal with their manipulation and drunken habits.”

“But- but they’re all I got,” Tommy whimpered. “I don’t have any other family really.”

“You have me,” Wilbur said, feeling almost hurt even though he knew Tommy didn’t mean it like that.

“But I can’t live with you,” Tommy said, whining softly. “You’re cities away and you- you aren’t my biological family. If I run off with you I could get you arrested by accident.”

“Then we need to get someone else involved,” Wilbur said. “Call a hotline or the police and report your parents for abuse.”

“No!” Tommy exclaimed, quick to shoot down Wilbur’s idea. “I- I can’t. I can’t Wilbur.” He hiccupped again and used the sleeve of his jacket to dry his eyes, wincing slightly because of his still very much bruised eye. “They’ll take me away and I might not get to see you again, or talk to you, or anyone else! I can’t Wilbur, I can’t.”

He sobbed and Wilbur pulled him into another hug.

“It pains me to know you’re hurting, knowing I’m going to allow you to go back to them,” Wilbur said as he tried to sooth the boy. “Promise to tell me if anything gets worse, okay? We can figure this out together.”

He felt Tommy’s head nod even though it was pressed into his chest. He was pretty certain the boy mumbled ‘promise’ but he could hardly tell because of his sobbing and the way he was speaking into Wilbur’s jacket.

The two stayed there for a while, sitting alone on that bench, holding one another as they sat in somber silence.

* * *

It had been a little over a month since Tommy had spilled everything about his home life to Wilbur. While Tommy didn’t ever bring it up again that didn’t mean that Wilbur stopped worrying for him. At the back of his mind there were these thoughts that plagued him, worrying about how Tommy was doing, if his parents were yelling at him at this moment, if there was another new bruise on his skin.

Those thoughts would eat him alive and whenever he messaged Tommy asking how he was doing he couldn’t help but wonder if his replies were lies.

Calling Tommy regularly and checking on before and after he streamed, and on the days he didn’t of course, helped put some of the thoughts at ease, but Wilbur could see through the façade Tommy put up. Tommy was loud so he could drown out of the voices of his parents. He was determined so he could try to achieve the praise he craved from parents who didn’t care. He was rude because it was all he ever knew. But he was also kind, because if no one was kind to him he would be kind to others.

When Wilbur got the call at around three in the morning on a Tuesday morning he was immediately on edge. Tommy had his phone number, but like him preferred to call through Discord. So that was unusual, along with the fact that he was calling him at ungodly hours in the morning, or night, however you saw it. So Wilbur sat up in bed, grabbed his phone, and accepted the call.

For a second there was silence. Then Wilbur heard the familiar sounds of Tommy’s sobs and breathing coming through his phone. Wilbur kicked off his sheets and rubbed his eyes and slid out of bed to pace his room.

“Tommy, Toms, Toms are you okay?” Wilbur asked frantically. He heard Tommy sob before it sounded like he was muffling his own sobs. “Tommy?”

“Wil-Wilby,” Tommy said, his voice very soft, like he was trying to hide.

“Tommy are you safe?” Wilbur asked, running to turn the lights on in his room.

“N-no,” Tommy cried, still speaking in whispers. “I’m- I’m hidin’ in da bathroom.”

“Can you get somewhere safe until I get to you?” Wilbur asked, rushing to his closet to find a jacket.

“I-I think my p-parents went to bed,” Tommy said, whimpering. “I can- I can stay in the bathroom.”

“Stay there then Tommy,” Wilbur said as he pulled socks on his feet, followed shortly by shoes. He didn’t bother to change out of the pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt he wore to bed. He just pulled on his jacket and a beanie as he grabbed his wallet and keys. “I’m going to be there in a couple of hours. I’ll stay on the call for as long as a can.”

“Hurry,” Tommy whispered. “I don’t- I don’t want them to hurt me again.”

Wilbur bit back his own tears as he ran down the stairs of his flat complex and out onto the streets of Brighton. “I’ll be there soon Toms, I promise.”

All he got in response were hurried breathings as Tommy fell silent. He was sure he heard Tommy say something about he couldn’t breath and Wilbur realized he was having a panic attack.

“Tommy Tommy,” he said. “I need you to breath. Can you breath in for four seconds? Come on Tommy breath with me.”

He heard the shaky sounds of breaths coming through the phone and Wilbur nodded to himself. “Good lad. Now hold your breath for seven seconds, then release for eight.”

He listened to the boy breathe and told him to repeat that until he could breathe easily again. Tommy did as he asked and by the time he reached the tube line Tommy was breathing easily, for the most part, but was still speaking in whispers.

“Tommy, I’m going to lose signal for a while,” Wilbur said. “I have to get on a train.”

“O-okay.” Tommy still sounded distressed, but he seemed a little bit more grounded then he was minutes ago. Wilbur promised to call him as soon as he got signal again, and when he got on the train he looked sadly at the black screen of his phone.

Tommy was going to be okay. Tommy was going to be alright. He was going to save Tommy. He just had to get there first.

When he got off the train a couple hours later he called Tommy. He didn’t pick up, so Wilbur tried again. And again. And again. Worry was building up in his gut as he made his way towards Tommy’s house, just barely being able to remember his address.

He found himself standing across the street from a rather pleasant looking house, which had some lights on inside. He could see the lights turn on and off, and occasionally a figure would pass by a curtained window, casting a shadow. Even though he felt like a stalker Wilbur watched carefully, and hopefully out of eyesight, as two individuals walked out of the house and got into a car. They left not that long after. Wilbur watched them go, staring at the car with a look of hatred in his eyes as it drove away. Then as he crossed the street he pulled out his phone and called Tommy again. This time he picked up.

“Wilbur?”

“Tommy,” Wilbur said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m standing outside your house, do you mind letting me in?”

He heard the phone hang up and for a second he was worried until he saw a light flick on in the house and heard the sound of a lock turning. The door opened slowly and Wilbur watched as Tommy’s bright blue eyes stared up at him warily for a moment before he opened the door wider, letting Wilbur in.

“I guess you saw my parents leaving,” Tommy said as he closed the door after Wilbur. “I fell asleep in the bathtub and woke up to hear you calling me. I couldn’t answer because my parents were up.”

Tommy turned away from the door and Wilbur finally got a good look at the boy. He was dressed in a pair of pajamas, a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His cheek was bruised and his lip was busted. No black eye, thank god, but there was blood in his hair like he had been shoved too hard and cut his head on something. There were bruises around his wrists, fingerprints staining Tommy’s white skin. Wilbur was silent and Tommy rubbed his wrist self consciously.

“Who?” Wilbur asked, and there was an underlying threat in his voice. Tommy flinched and it hurt Wilbur, staring at this broken boy. Hurt knowing that someone had been hurting his brother and there was nothing he could have done when he lived so far away.

“My parents,” Tommy whispered. He sniffled and rubbed at his nose, wincing slightly. It was the answer he expected but Wilbur had still been holding onto some sliver of hope that Tommy’s parents had changed, or wouldn’t hit Tommy. Of course the thought was foolish, but he had still clung to it as he thought about Tommy and his situation at home.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Wilbur asked, his words soft and kind. Tommy shrugged. He looked awful, there were bags under his eyes and his eyelids were dropping as they spoke. He didn’t look as if he had gotten any decent hours of sleep in the past few days.

“It was difficult, sleepin’ in a bathtub,” Tommy admitted. “So I dunno, couple of hours or so?”

Wilbur took a couple steps forward, being careful with his movements when he saw Tommy shrink into himself slightly. He held out his arms and Tommy was quick to fall into them and wrap his thin arms around Wilbur's torso. Wilbur hugged Tommy tightly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Get some sleep Toms,” he said, whispering into the boy’s hair. “I have some calls to make.”

* * *

Wilbur was more than grateful that he had done all the paperwork in the previous month. That day, that was weeks ago now, when he got the call from Tommy about his parents he had finally called the police and child services. While he introduced himself as Tommy’s brother he wasn’t allowed to take care of him during the time the city took him away from his parents.

He was staying at a care home while Wilbur dealt with lawyers about how to go through with adopting the boy. Most of Tommy’s possessions were already sitting in his empty guest room at his apartment but everything was taking longer than he wanted.

Tommy was ignorant to it all, thinking that he was going to go into the foster care system or get adopted by some stranger. Wilbur felt guilty for not telling the boy about his plans but they didn’t get to talk as often anymore and when they saw one another Wilbur always wanted to listen to the boy talk about his day, his time at his therapy sessions, or anything else. He just wanted to see what made Tommy smile these days. Wanted to know that he was recovering now that he no longer had to deal with his parents.

So when Wilbur finally was approved to adopt the boy, and when Tommy was brought to the office to see was adopting him, he only had one thing to say to the boy.

“You wanna keep your last name or take mine?”


	2. Recovering

Tommy sipped his coke as he watched chat fly by on his other monitor. His Minecraft was still loading but he didn’t mind that his stream just showed his webcam for now until he switched to his usual set up. He set the coke down and swayed to the sound of his music as he finally clicked on Minecraft and logged into Hypixel, just to goof off for the stream today.

Tommy had been streaming for a few weeks now, after being adopted by Wilbur almost two months ago. He had gone maybe two months without streaming, luckily having other pre-recorded content he could edit and upload to YouTube at least. While his viewers were concerned and confused about his absence from Twitch and Twitter most of them had the common sense about not prying too much. He played off that the reason that he wasn’t streaming was because he was moving and transitioning to a new school. Both of those things were true but chat didn’t need to know the other half of it, not yet.

The only people who knew about his situation were Dream, Phil, Tubbo, and Technoblade. Dream only knew a part of it, that he was adopted by Wilbur, mostly because since he ran the DreamSMP and Tommy had to explain why he was going to be absent for so long. So that was on pause for a while, which he secretly thinks some of the players on the server were happy about since the lore was building up quickly. They deserved more breaks.

Phil knew because Wilbur told him rather quickly, with Tommy’s permission of course, that he had adopted a child and needed advice. Phil was very surprised and sad to hear the reasons why Wilbur ended up adopting Tommy, but he was there to help nonetheless. Techno found out in a similar fashion because of how close they were, and Tommy didn’t like keeping too many secrets away from his family for long.

Tubbo knew as well, not much about the abuse, they gave him a brief explanation about that, but he knew that Tommy was adopted by Wilbur and was living in Brighton with him now. The two now lived a lot closer and could see each other more often. They hung out every other weekend now that they only lived a couple cities apart. Tubbo was a great friend through it all, understanding that Tommy went through some shit, and he was always there to pick up the phone and chat whenever Tommy was having a bad day. Tommy was so happy to have him, and Phil and Techno, when it came to all of this. He couldn’t have asked for a better internet family.

“So chat, what do we wanna play today?” he mused, messing with his chat a bit, acting as if he didn’t already have some semblance of a plan for this stream already. “Some good ‘ol Bedwars ya’ think? Gotta beat the Blade’s record one of these days.”

He chuckled to himself and maneuvered around the Hypixel to join a Bedwars lobby.

“Now now chat,” he said. “No stream sniping, that’s no fun!”

He knew chat wouldn’t listen but he could try. Even being nicknamed and wearing a different skin to hide his usual Minecraft appearance chat always managed to find him in the different lobbies and produced to hunt him down in the games. Guess it was fun for them, getting to kill famous YouTubers and Twitch streamers. He didn’t really get it but he knew in another universe he’d probably be one of them chasing after some different person he idolized. But only in a different universe of course.

Tommy still loved streaming, even after his break. He only streamed once or twice a week, mostly because he’d appear on other’s streams but without worrying about keeping up his perfect streamer attitude. There was no one to impress anymore, no one that would drive him into burnout because of the words he sought from parents who never cared to begin with. He kinda liked it this way, and he knew streaming less made Wilbur and his therapist happier, knowing he wasn’t burning himself out.

It was weird, therapy. His therapist was a nice middle aged woman named Elise who never once got mad at him for yelling, crying, or cursing. She somehow knew how to get him to open up and knew how to comfort him and help him heal. Sure, it was her job, but he never knew how successful it could be. He guessed all of those therapy failure stories scared him, so when he first heard he was going to therapy he flipped out. Now he was somewhat grateful for the fact that he was forced into it, because every now and then his therapist would bring him cookies as they sat down to talk during his appointments. And he liked seeing the smile on Wilbur’s face every time he made more progress on his recovery.

He never knew how much his parents fucked him up until he broke.

Music was still a great outlet for him. He felt bad every time he woke up Wilbur at strange times during the night because he found him playing an instrument. He didn’t sing often, but sometimes when he was having a really bad day he couldn’t stop himself from singing along to words that he found so relatable. It was a way for him to process and deal with his feelings in a way that wasn’t self destructive. Sometimes he just needed to jam out in the middle of the night, pound his fists on his piano, just to let out some emotions he was holding back.

He thanks GeorgeNotFound everyday for accidentally introducing him to mxmtoon’s music because of the Twitter drama they started a year ago. It led him down a road to other sad music he could relate to, but also music he could vibe to. And, of course, he always had Wilbur’s music he could listen to, the familiar voice and sad lyrics were always strangely comforting.

Tuning back into his stream, Tommy was talking to chat, screaming whenever he’d get killed or fall off the maps. He could practically hear Technoblade’s voice in his head calling him a ‘noob,’ but it made him smile more than it made him frustrated.

“I’m telling you chat, one day I’ll attract an amazin’ gamer girl and then I’ll have a wife of me own, just like Philza Minecraft,” Tommy joked as he speed bridged over the void, only to get jumped by another player. He whined when he saw that his bed had just been destroyed and had lost the match. “Well fuck.”

There was a knock on Tommy’s door and he quickly shouted that he was streaming. He muted himself and pulled him headphones down around his neck as he watched Wilbur peer through the door.

“What?” he asked, knowing that chat was watching as he talked to a person they couldn’t see or hear.

“I finished making dinner,” Wilbur said. “Pasta.”

“Poggers,” Tommy said, smiling brightly at his brother. “But I’m streaming.”

“Well haven’t you been streaming for an hour or so anyway?” Wilbur said. “Most of your streams average around an hour these days.”

“True true,” Tommy said as he shooed his brother away. “I’ll be done in fifteen minutes tops.”

Wilbur smiled and gave him a thumbs up before he closed the door behind him. Tommy turned back to his stream and unmuted himself as he tugged back on his headphones.

“Turns out my family made food, so I’m going to end stream boys!” Tommy said in a chipper tone. “It’s been too long since I last enjoyed a bowl of pasta.”

Chat flew by, saying their goodbyes, spamming, and screaming for him not to end the stream yet. Like that could stop him. Tommy logged out of Hypixel and closed Minecraft, switching to just his camera. He leaned back in his seat and smiled happily.

“Well chat, it’s been a good night, innit?” he asked, watched their responses. “Got so many primes tonight, which is mighty poggers if I do say so myself.”

He chuckled as he watched a couple primes fly by in the chat, mixed in among the pogchamps.

“Well, time to go enjoy some time with the family,” he said. “Big brother Wilbur’s cooking better not kill me, but if it does you know who to blame.”

He winked at the camera and wheezed when he heard Wilbur shouting from the other room. Guess he had his stream open in the kitchen. He was almost always lurking on his streams, making sure he didn’t say anything too stupid and just watching out for him in general. Always the big brother.

“I’m joking Wilbur!” he shouted, knowing full well that Wilbur could hear him, both through the door and the stream he had open. He laughed and turned back to look at the chat which was screaming at him, so many messages that were typed in all caps. If he was being honest he found it funny that they were so confused.

“But seriously boys, thanks for the support,” he said. “I know my break was long, but nothing can get rid of TommyInnit forever! Make sure to sub with prime and hit follow if you haven't already.”

He looked at Twitch and saw Philza streaming. He usually streamed for a couple hours and probably already had been live for at least one.

“Boys go watch Philza Minecraft,” he said. “Let him know Tommy said hello. Good ‘ol Dadza mustn’t mind getting raided by his favorite man, right?”

He laughed and set up the host feature because Twitch just couldn’t handle a raid from the sheer amount of viewers he had. He smiled fondly at the screen as he stopped his live stream. He watched Phil thank him for the host and raid and tell him not to get into too much trouble offline. Tommy smiled and typed a message in his chat, shouting  _ ‘EATING PASTA WITH WILBUR WHAT COULD GO WRONG?’ _ before he closed everything and turned off his computer. He could hear Wilbur shouting for him from the other room and he spun his chair and hopped out of his seat, running into the kitchen.

He loved whatever time he got to spend with his older brother, and right now pasta sounded amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna thank you for reading! Don't take this fic to seriously, it's all fake and based on a prompt anyway. I hope you enjoyed, this was the first time I really wrote a Wilbur and Tommy sibling dynamic in more detail. It's ooc, I know, but it was fun to write and I hoped you all enjoyed reading.  
> Feel free to drop a comment or kudos, I appreciate both very very much! :D


End file.
